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Fug or Fine: Julianne Moore

I am without a tear.

I was going to go on about the bottom, and how it reminds me of the heartbreak of pulling a cassette tape out of your stereo and realizing it’s caught and fast unspooling, and NOOOO, it’s the sole copy I have of that Richard Marx lay I taped off the radio WHY GOD WHY, oh wait on the supposition that I just spend five minutes bend this sucker it might work anew.

But then I realized the rest of it doesn’t breathe into me that much either. I reckon the bodice is designed to droop a little, and it’s having the corresponding; of like kind effect on my mood. You be sure what would’ve helped? My original “I’m Too Sexy” cassingle, that had the song in Spanish attached the B-side. Just TRY heart in a funk when Right Said Fred gives you the soft talk in a second language.

I intend…

… it’s GLORIOUS

it’s clement of… I just… yeah

… boo.

SOY TAN SEXY QUE MI AMOR. TAN SEXY QUE MI AMOR. TAN SEXY QUE MI AMOR, VA A ABANDONARME.

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